


Beautiful

by Sougishiki



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gore, Horror, Kuchisake-onna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sougishiki/pseuds/Sougishiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps he has gone mad, but Loki is calling him. And Thor is ever loyal to his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tyrotheterrible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrotheterrible/gifts).



            His bed is cold and he cannot sleep. Asgard’s nights have been crisp of late and Thor takes a moment to drape a fur around his shoulders before stepping outside. His breath fogs in the dark, a white cloud an inch from his mouth that shreds to tatters in the night breeze. The stars are beautiful tonight, but Thor finds himself unable to appreciate them and so chooses a path that will lead him to the woods, away from the cold light that brings him only bitter memories.

            Only two months have passed since the bridge’s breaking and his brother’s fall. Perhaps the wounds they have left would be more easily dulled by time, but Heimdall still has not Seen Loki and Thor is left to worry. Shadows cling to everything under the canopy, and when he looks up, Thor can see not a single star. He finds himself thankful and continues on, closing his eyes and trusting his knowledge of the land to guide him. With his eyes closed he can hear the forest more clearly. Nightbirds in the trees above, chirping insects in the bushes, the breeze slipping through branches, and the creek just through the trees ahead. Thor releases a deep breath and when he opens his eyes everything is brighter than before. His hand tightens around the fur where he holds it around his neck and he continues on.

            Thor angles to a familiar rock when the river comes into view. This is a place he and his brother had come often when they were young, less so as they grew and grew apart. Their rock is broad where it rests at a place where the water has carved bowls into the smooth stone of the riverbed. While their rock seems smaller to him now, it is still a comfortable place to rest and Thor wraps his fur closer about himself as he settles himself.

            Though he tries not to think of anything, worry creeps inside his mind through tiny cracks. His people are stranded in Asgard, without the trade from their neighbor realms. Those that were away are unable to return to their families and must fend for themselves. Likewise, Asgard’s guests are trapped, reliant on hospitality that is admittedly thin after all that has happened. Again, Thor lets his eyes slip closed. He is so tired; lately his dreams have been plagued by Loki. His little brother falls through his hands again and again and ever does that horrible expression slide across his face. Thor hates it and at the same time can think of little else. That pure despair that had gripped his brother when he fell, that was Thor’s last memory of Loki and though it cut his heart to remember, it is precious to him.

            “Loki…”

            “ _Brother_ …” the words just scrape his ears and set them tingling as they pass. Thor’s head jolts up, eyes wide and unbelieving. On the river’s far bank a shadow stands. The night obscures any details he might have found, but its outline is lanky in a way Thor knows intimately and he lunges from his seat. He is crashing through cold water before the fur settles behind him, but when he is close enough to grab at Loki’s ankle, for the far bank is much higher than the other, he grasps nothing but wisps of half-solid shadow.  It is all he can do to stay standing and he wonders briefly if he is losing his mind. Surely he must be insane for climbing the bank and walking into the woods.

            He knows he is insane and a fool besides when Loki’s voice whispers again and he follows the specter deeper into the woods and past any light that filters through the gap in the canopy over the river. He can barely see in the gloom and his feet catch more than once on fallen branches, but he hurries, hoping to catch the specter just ahead. His hands are covered in scratches where he has caught himself, some deep enough to drip bright blood down his fingers. His arms, bare without the fur to cover them, are covered in gooseflesh and his breath comes in white gasps and still he chases the ghost of his brother deeper into the wood. His brother is calling him, and Thor is ever loyal to his brother.

            Thor stops running when the ghost turns to face him in a clearing far from the city. He crashes into it, hands reflexively pressed against the specter’s back to roll them and break the fall. A fall never occurs, because the not-Loki is rooted firmly to the ground and is unmoved even after being nearly run over. Thor clenches his fists in the ghost’s coat and the cloth and leather bunches in his grip. There is no heat against him, just the hint of cold, as if he holds a piece of ice wrapped in many layers of cloth. His brother is still when he buries his head in his neck, eyes closed tightly and stinging. Loki’s neck is like ice, but he is loath to pull away.

            “Loki…Brother, I-” Thor’s words are halted by the arms slowly winding themselves around his back until they are wrapped tightly around him. Such embraces from Loki had always been so rare…and to receive one now, after so much strife between them. His arms tighten and he realizes how thin Loki has become in his absence. Where before muscle had lay now there is only bone and sinew.

            “Brother…Brother…Am I beautiful, brother?” An odd question to ask first, he thinks, but his brother has always been odd and he thinks no more of it.

            “Yes, brother. You are beautiful, Loki, you always have been,” He can tell only the truth to his sibling and Thor thinks that no matter what happens, Loki will always be beautiful to him. He only wonders why he would ask such a thing now. Surely they have more important things to talk about?

            At his words, Loki stiffens, and begins to pull away. In a vain attempt, Thor tries to keep him close but Loki seems not to notice. And then they are facing each other and Thor can see his brother’s face for the first time that night. Loki’s voice is sharp and cracked and brittle as broken glass as he asks, “Thor. Brother…Am I still beautiful? Do you think me so?”

            Light filtering through the trees above throws macabre shadows onto his skin, painting it an awful white against the almost black of the wounds. Someone has slit Loki’s mouth from ear to ear and Thor can see white teeth inside Loki’s grinning face. They shine through the ragged flesh and, oh, there is blood everywhere. Loki’s jaw in coated in red and as he watches, more slips down to drip off of his brother’s chin. It stains his armor and spatters the upper half of his face. Loki’s eyes are wide and Thor cannot say whether his brother feels any pain from his wounds. Loki has stepped back from his brother, hands spread wide to display himself and there is blood on his hands, too, crusted and dark. He waits for Thor’s answer.

            He can’t breathe or move or take his eyes from Loki. His brother who is so wounded and has been gone so long. When he manages to speak, his voice is harsh and pained, “Yes, brother. You are still beautiful. You will always,” his voice breaks and rasps, “be beautiful.”

            Loki’s arms settle back at his sides as his smile fades. His eyes are still wide, but filled now with confusion. That confusion is a dagger in Thor’s chest. That his brother can truly not see anything positive in himself, “Brother, come home with me. We can heal you. We will be a family again.” He reaches out and enfolds Loki’s slighter hand within his own. He expects the chill now and turns towards the city, gently pulling his brother behind him.

They do not speak and Thor tries his damnedest not to think of how Loki gained his injuries or why he has not treated them. He does not think of the chase Loki led him on. He thinks only of returning his brother home. When they cross the river again, Thor carries his brother across and wraps him in the fur he had left there. His brother is so very cold and an illness now could be devastating. Loki remains silent, only holds the fur close with his free hand and follows Thor passively.

Loki enters Thor’s rooms first and Thor closes the door before walking to a table to retrieve his washbasin and rag. It is as his hands touch the silver that Loki twines himself around Thor from behind. His voice is still cold and sharp as he whispers into Thor’s ear, “You are a liar, Thor Odinson. I am not but a monster.” Then there is cold and pain in Thor’s chest and when he looks down he is not surprised to see one of his brother’s blades there. His blood drips off the dagger’s tip to stain the water in the basin as Thor sags against Loki’s chest. He is lowered to the floor and the dagger removed before Loki is leaning over him, loose hair hanging past his face. It sticks to the blood in a horrible way and for the first time, Thor is afraid of his brother.

“You think I am beautiful, Brother? Shall I make you beautiful, too?”

And Loki’s blade gleams as it sets to work.


End file.
